Damsel
by MeLaNch0LYdreams
Summary: My eyes softened in relief, and then widened in fear at her insistent volunteer. And now I felt like I was the damsel in distress.PeetaxKatniss drabbles. Peeta-centric
1. I

Damsel in distress

Summary: collection of drabbles, Peeta-centric. I inwardly relaxed and softened my eyes,pitying the young girl who had been drawn. However, my blood froze at her insistent volunteer. And now I was the damsel in distress. PeetaxKatniss

I: Cookie Dough

I shifted my legs, sitting on my knees on the rickety old beg, pressing my elbows and palms together, closinhg my restless blue eyes.  
"Not this year." I prayed, whispering in fear of being heard. Hoping they did not hear that he prayed that-  
"**PEETA!** You lazy ass of a child-get up!" the few moments of peace were ruined as mother yelled harshly from below. I scowled, narrowing my eyes at the interruption. I angrily popped a few joints and headed down the stairs to the back doors. Smoldering in the cold dawn, perspiration gathering on his bare arms and face. Lazily I glanced at the customer from afar and bis my frown.  
_**Gale.**_  
He thought jealously. Probably going to present a loaf of bread to his supposed seam girlfriend, Katniss Everdeen. (Whom I was praying to not be drawn for this year's hunger games.) The time presented it self on many occasions, seeing as Peeta could have generously offered her more loaves, but too anxious to do so. Sleepily, I grabbed at the dough, firmer than the usual. The dough was seperated into smaller piles, probably to preserve the quantityof the grain. But there was too many. I haphazrdly gathered multiple piles and moulded them together tiredly.  
Mother smirked as she passed him for unknown reasons. His parents exchanged places as father cocked an innocent brow at his son's antics.  
"Peeta...that's cookie dough..." His father explained patiently. I facepalmed, flour coating my face. Unfortunately not obscuring Gale's mocking smile.

**_A/N  
I have never baked either way-but I thought this would be pretty ironic :p , review and love peoples!  
_**


	2. II

_. _

Damsel

**II: Frosting**

The tremors claim me and I'm delirious to the world surrounding me. I'm aware of Cato, barreling towards me to finish me off-but it's not Cato I'm worried about. It's the violent delusions I am experiencing. The three people I never imagined whom could kill me.

Mother is advancing towards me with me a murderous glint in her eyes as she assaults me abusively. Each slap and blow harsh and unrelenting. Almost uncharacteristically, I am unharmed and lounging on the sofa with everyone's favorite mentor: Haymitch Abernathy. I vaguely remember that this was a scene of us together during our brief five hours of _**bonding. **_Although it had not taken much thought as to how to present him, cocky characters were presented. Except this time, Haymitch did not take it good naturedly, in fact, he chugged the whole bottle of dark fluid and broke it on the nightstand, bringing the broken half bottle down to his face, spraying the stinging liquid as he bared his injuries. Instantly the image changed and I was in a pretty meadow with clear flowing water and greener than green grass, and the setting was generally and totally unrecognizable. I was backing up in fear and tripped over a thick boned tree root. I looked up in horror at a commonly known murderer. My murderer.

Katniss Everdeen aimed Glimmer's slimy silver arrow at me. The rest of her was untouched, unharmed, as if the tracker jacker attack never happened. Her gray eyes fixated on me, long singed braid, clothes slightly filthy. She really resembled a hunter in that millisecond of a moment, as she withdrew her hold on the quiver on the slung bow, and I let out a terrible shriek.

I woke up, clawing at the stab on my upper leg, gasping as I registered the creek I was currently residing in, doing a swift double take and insisted that I take mediating breathes to calm my rapidly beating heart. I shakily grasped the mud and waterweeds, churning a soft paste as I lathered it onto my face and laid back. I grimly smiled, body burning with fever and shaking as I concealed myself in the small narrow body of water.

_Frosting. The final defense of the dying. _


End file.
